This weekend I did exactly as Ryan Reynolds told me, I saw Deadpool... twice. I promise there are no spoilers in this article, unless you haven't seen any of the trailers, in which case I apologize for you having had to live under a rock for the past year. I got to see it twice and it was absolutely fantastic, but it was also bittersweet.

The general plot-line of Deadpool is that Wade Wilson, a terminal cancer patient, is a human forced to turn into a mutant, and who is trying to get the man who turned him into a mutant to change his physical appearance back into a normal looking human so he can be with his "future baby momma."

Overall, the movie is amazing and I nearly peed myself laughing both times seeing it. I was in desperate need of that this week.

You see, my week started with my mother telling me that my father's cancer had come back and moved to a lymph node near his lung, as well as a spot in his shoulder bone. This will be his fourth battle with cancer in the past three years. It has been one year since he was diagnosed with lung cancer, before that was prostrate cancer and melanoma. It is safe to say it has been a rough couple of years for my family.

Wilson has late stage prostrate, brain, lung, and liver cancer. Sitting in the movie theater, watching this character find out his fate, was surprisingly hard to swallow. It was too easy to picture my father and mother in that position at the doctor's office. My father spacing off, entranced by his own train of thought, while my mother got down to business to figure out what the options where and what the next step was.

I wasn't prepared for that wave of emotion to hit me. Though my father's isn't late stage cancer, we don't know where exactly his course of treatment is going just yet, nor do we know which of his cancers caused this, or if it is a new version. With each battle there is always that little voice in the back of your head that says, "What if this doesn't work?" These days, that voice is getting harder to mute.

One of the most important lines in the entire movie is when Wilson states, "The worse part about cancer isn't what it does to you, but what it does to the ones you love." I agree with this wholeheartedly. My father was never one for hospitals, and doctors were just wack-jobs with fancy pieces of paper. Anything could be fixed with some duct-tape and a beer. It was an uphill battle for him to accept what was going on, and that he actually had to listen to the doctors this time around. My mother made a deal with him stating that he couldn't deny treatment until I turned eighteen and graduated from high school. Then, and only then, was he allowed to say no to any type of treatment that was offered because I would then be an adult.

When he was diagnosed with lung cancer last January, I was convinced that he would never see me graduate from Stetson because I didn't believe he would do the treatments after we had just lost my uncle from stage four lung cancer two months prior. To my surprise, he did. That shock happened again when I found out he was prepared to fight this cancer as well. No matter how much time he will have to spend with doctors and hospitals, easily two things he still hates the most. He wants to see me graduate. He wants to see my sisters' children grow up. He doesn't want to put us through losing him just yet.

I never would have thought this movie would bring out so much emotion in me. I didn't even get emotional during The Notebook, so an R-rated movie with graphic content and language should not make me cry. I don't think I will ever look at Deadpool and not see my father either, which is equally terrifying. However, I am lucky to have a father with Deadpool's strength, humor, and talent for stirring things up.

Thank you Marvel, for giving me an emotion-filled weekend, one that for once did not originate with me being single, timed perfectly for when chocolates goes on sale for 75 percent off.